Lies and Silence
by ravenhaired
Summary: Anna had found them out.  Lavinia/Edith femmeslash, sequel to 'Unexpected Intimacies' .


**Lies and Silence**

_A sequel to 'Unexpected Intimacies'_

_**Warning:** Femmeslash. Lavinia Swire/Edith Crawley_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey**

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><p>Anna had found them out.<p>

It had started out as innocuous. Anna had been fastening a necklace around her neck in preparation for dinner, when she had paused, her eyes lingering on one spot, and then she gently touched it. Edith flinched.

"Does it hurt, My Lady?" Anna said. "I thought it might have been a tiny speck of dirt –" She stopped abruptly.

She raised her eyes to the mirror and looks questioningly at Edith's reflection. Edith felt herself flush, as she knew instantly what Anna had seen. A small mark, no bigger than a thumbnail, but unmistakeable.

Lavinia had made it two days previously, when they had met walking. It had not even been an intentional meeting – Edith had taken a rather long route to the village to post a letter to Aunt Rosamund, and Lavinia had said she hadn't really known what to do with herself, everyone else seemed to have their occupations but she was quite alone, so she had taken to exploring.

Though they had not went below the waistline – certainly, even in this kind of clandestine affair, Edith wasn't for rolling around in the dirt – their embrace had got heated, and Edith had made the rest of the walk to the village with swollen lips, a tiny bruise and an unsatisfied ache between her legs.

So Anna – kind, gracious Anna, whom Edith knew favoured Mary, as everyone did – said nothing. She artfully arranged Edith's collar so the bruise was not visible.

Edith commented on this to Lavinia the following Sunday, when she had made sure to call at Crawley House when Isobel was at the hospital and Matthew had been taken out by Edith's father. Simply because he was confined to a chair, Lord Grantham had said, was no reason why he should not be involved in the running of the estate.

Edith was glad they could snatch these moments like these, as Lavinia nuzzled her neck, kissing her earlobes, in the lazy haze that followed love-making. She was loath to bring up anything that might disrupt the moment.

Lavinia cocked her head to the side. "You think she knows?"

"Well, not exactly, no," Edith kissed Lavinia's proffered nose. "I think she suspects something is amiss,"

"Amiss," Lavinia kissed her back. "Is not the same thing as thinking you're…well, having an affair, I suppose…with your cousin's fiancé,"

"Is this an affair?" Edith asked.

"Well, what else is it?"

"I don't know, but 'affair' seems somehow too illicit a thing for me, of all people, to be involved in," Edith smiled. "Of Mary, people could believe it,"

Lavinia's face darkened. "Let's not talk of your sister, please, darling,"

The next time they were together was a few weeks later. They were getting too reckless, Edith supposed, as slipping away together after afternoon tea was not the done thing.

But Lavinia's eyes had burned into hers the entire time they had sat in polite company, Mama, Isobel and Granny discussing something-or-other about the hospital, something, something. Edith had difficulty concentrating on what they were saying, as she stirred the lemon in her earl grey and took pains to avoid Lavinia's haunted stare.

Mary was out with Matthew, wheeling him around the grounds. Their excursions got longer every day, though Edith didn't see how that was possible as there was only a few paths that were in good enough condition for Matthew to be pushed along in comfort.

Edith had mentioned, offhandedly, how she had promised Miss Swire a book, and she would get it for her now, if Miss Swire would be so good as to come with her.

Granny had blinked in that owlish way she did, so reminiscent of Mary, and wondered why on earth Edith couldn't just fetch Lavinia the book, when Lavinia had cut across her (very brave!) and said she would be happy to go get the book with Edith, as Edith was especially good at recommending them and perhaps she could recommend a few others to her during their walk to the library.

Edith had smiled gratefully. She was not the most artful of liars.

They had left together, rather silently, and as Edith shut the door, she heard Isobel comment on how nice it was that Lavinia seemed to be making friends within the family. Grateful not to hear Granny's snide response, Edith took Lavinia's gloved hand and pressed her lips against it. Lavinia shuddered, almost unnoticeably, and they had walked, quickly so as not to be seen, up the stairs, to Edith's room, where Anna and Jane had left the bed immaculate.

Edith shut the door, and then locked it.

Lavinia had turned from where she was standing, peering out to the gardens, searching, Edith knew, for Matthew and Mary.

There was a silence, in which Edith crossed the floor, and suddenly their mouths were together and hands were frantically roaming.

When they crashed together onto the bed, Edith's leg became wedged between Lavinia's thighs, and Lavinia's mouth – Edith was always surprised at how sweet it was – was moving along Edith's jawline.

"Careful, darling," Edith murmured, rumpling up Lavinia's dress. "No more marks, please – Anna never asks, thank god, but she always sees,"

Edith edged her hands underneath Lavinia's dress, and all the world was a blur.

The next day, Anna had found Edith alone in the drawing room. She had been replying to a rather uninteresting letter, when Anna had cleared her throat.

"Oh, Anna, is there something?"

"Well, Lady Edith, the thing is…" Anna broke off awkwardly, and Edith raised her eyebrows. Anna took a deep breath, and continued. "I found this – this in your room as I was turning down your bed this morning,"

Anna had come forward and pressed something into Edith's hand. Edith's fingers closed around something cool and metallic. She opened her hand and on her palm sat a rather modest necklace, a blue stone set on a silver chain.

Ice dropped into Edith's stomach.

"What…is this?"

"It's Miss Swire's necklace, My Lady," Anna returned, not a note of anything beyond the professional in her voice. "I only know it's hers because…well, because Mrs Hughes passed remark on how pretty it was yesterday, which made me take note of it."

"And you found it when you turned down my bed this morning?"

"Yes, my lady. I told Jane it was yours,"

Edith looked up then, grateful, and acknowledged Anna's kindness with a small nod. "Thank you, Anna, I shall return Miss Swire's necklace as soon as possible,"

Anna had inclined her head, and left Edith thoughtfully turning the necklace in her fingers.

She had returned the necklace when she had seen Lavinia a few nights later. She had pushed it into her hand, in the drawing room, and Lavinia had frowned, then her expression froze.

"How do you have…?" Lavinia asked in an undertone.

"Anna found it," Then, Sybil joined them and any chance for a private word was gone.

It was growing warmer. Edith had taken to escorting Lavinia to the garden temple, where 'one could get the most spectacular views of the lake'. After the first few excursions, the others declined to join them. There was only so much viewing of the lake that one could do, after all.

The warm weather seemed to heat Lavinia's blood in a way that fitted her red hair. Edith knew that Anna would have her suspicions confirmed when she took Edith's underlinens downstairs to be washed – grass stained, dusty and all sorts of other unmentionable stains – but she never said anything, though Edith thought occasionally she would look at her with an unreadable expression, somewhere between pity and disgust.

"Really, Edith, you must stop boring poor Lavinia," Mary said, one evening as they were changing for dinner.

"I don't bore her," Edith said, a tinge of irritation creeping in. Edith wished it wouldn't – better for Mary to believe she hadn't rattled Edith at all.

"Oh really?" Mary raised her eyebrows at Edith in the mirror, as Anna studiously pinned up her hair. "Poor dear, all those trips to the garden temple you go on! The girl is too polite to refuse you!"

Edith wet her lips as Anna raised her gaze to hers.

"I wouldn't say that," Edith said quietly, showing, she thought, a spectacular amount of restraint. "Lavinia and I…enjoy each other's company, is all,"

Was it her imagination, or did Anna's lips quirk in the barest shadow of amusement?

"But what on earth do you talk about?"

"Sometimes we don't talk at all,"

Edith certainly hadn't imagined it this time. Anna ducked her head to conceal the twitching of her lips.

"How dull," Mary said, more to her reflection than to anyone.

Later, when Anna was unpinning her hair in the privacy in her own room, Edith, on a very un-English impulse, asked: "Do you think I'm being a fool?"

"My Lady?" Anna asked softly. Edith knew she was used to such confidences from Mary, but never from her. Mary, for all her coldness, seemed to inspire great affection in the more honourable members of the staff.

"Do you think I'm being a fool? About Lavinia, I mean,"

Anna's hands paused in their steady brushing. "I don't know what you mean, My Lady,"

"Of course you do,"

"I…well, whatever is between you and Miss Swire is of no business or concern of mine," Anna paused. "Nor is it anyone's,"

"Some might say it is Cousin Matthew's business too,"

"Yes, well, what the eyes don't see the heart won't grieve over,"

"True," Edith replied thoughtfully.

"What I will say, My Lady, however," Anna said. "Is that you must be careful,"

"Careful?" Edith's nose wrinkled in perplexity. "We are careful. And there's no chance of any…" Edith groped for the words. "Accidental children,"

Anna flinched ever-so-slightly, as though up until that moment she had no truly believed what she suspected.

"I mean," She continued. "That you must be careful not to fall in love with Miss Swire,"

"Ah,"

"Because she will marry Mr Crawley. Even if you ask her not to,"

Edith was going to reply snappishly that Anna didn't know a damn thing about Lavinia, about what Lavinia would and wouldn't do…but she had invited Anna's opinion, so sat quietly as Anna finished. This moment of silence, Edith thought, epitomised how much she had grown up since the war. Though it was tempered by a desire to keep on Anna's good side – she could not afford Anna telling things to the staff, even if she did believe that Anna would never intentionally do that.

A few days later, with Lavinia's hair clasped between her hands, she thought momentarily of Anna's warning and thought sadly of how it had come too late.

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><p><strong>The End<strong>


End file.
